


Wanna Dance

by resonatingkitty



Series: Writing Prompts or Short Fics [8]
Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-17
Updated: 2016-06-17
Packaged: 2018-07-15 15:23:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7227862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/resonatingkitty/pseuds/resonatingkitty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Abigail's birthday and it's a time of celebration for the Compound. It's Dean's first and he learns something.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wanna Dance

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MoxFirefly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoxFirefly/gifts).



It was the single largest barn fire that Dean had ever seen in his entire life. Stacks upon stack of fat lighter logs had been stacked together in the middle of a large field and set ablaze. The flames stretched ten or fifteen feet into the sky and was accompanied by the hooting and hollering of the crowd gathered around it.

It was a time for celebration, as Bray had put it when Dean had asked why the Compound seemed more busy than usual. Abigail’s birthday.

After the initial lighting of the barn fire, the group broke down into smaller circles. Beer was brought out and so were the banjos and guitars and a melodic twang filled the air as song were played.

It was strangely comforting, homey feeling even for Dean, which surprised the hell out of him. He sat beside Bray in a rocking chair of his own, cold beer in his hand. He had expected Bray to take it as soon as he’d grabbed it out the chest but the brunet had merely given him a glance and turned his attention back to the fire. He brought the bottle to his lips, taking a sip as he gazes around. As twisted and fucked up he’s thought the whole of the Compound was when he was first introduced to it, he had to admit that in the past year he’d learned a lot about these people. What Bray hadn’t told him - how everyone that resided at the Compound had either come from orphanages or had been lost and had stumbled upon Bray, he’d learned from the residents themselves. What they all had in common, despite what background they came from, was that Bray had saved them. There were even some that had said Abigail as they’d joined the family when she was still alive. They’d all been saved from their past and their future was much brighter than it had been before.

Dean’s gaze comes back to the man beside him. The man who’s rumored to be a heartless, cold bastard who tortures people and manipulates them into doing what he wants. It’s not true. Those rumors. It’s no secret that Bray isn’t fond of people outside the family nor is he fond of those who try to come in a threaten his family. Dean can’t really fault him for that. But Dean has never seen Bray show anything but compassion for those that are in the family. It has Dean often wondering what Abigail herself would’ve been like had she’d been here when him and Bray had first hooked up.

He’s so deep in his own thoughts that he doesn’t seen when Bray leaves his chair and goes to stand in front of the barn fire. He actually jumps when he feels a hand on his shoulder, just barely keeping a startled yelp from escaping him. He turns to see Luke standing behind him, the bearded man’s eyes weren’t on him though, rather they were on Bray.

Luke leans down enough to where he can speak lowly in Dean’s ear. “He misses her. We all miss her but he misses her the most. For a long time, she was all that he had, all that he wanted.” Dean’s eyes shift back to Bray. He’s become a black silhouette in front of the still high flames of the fire. “Her passing was hard on us all but Bray suffered the most. He grieved and grieved for so long that we were all worried about him, we were all concerned that he’d grieve himself into sickness. He was still grieving when we started wrestling you know, but she had come back to him by then, whispering in his ear and guiding us all. He was better but he still wasn’t like he was. It wasn’t until he saw you Ambrose, that he started to really heal. As much as I hate to say this, it was you who ultimately saved him a second time. After you, he started acting like the old Bray again. We’re all grateful for that and if we have to be grateful for you then so be it we all will. You’re a part of the family, a part of his heart. Don’t let him grieve alone Ambrose. You’re the only one who can help.” He straightens then, removes his hand and walks away. Leaves Dean staring at Bray.

It’s a split second decision but Dean makes it. He sets his bottle down and pushes himself to his feet. He crosses the short distance between their chairs to the fire and stands beside Bray, who hasn’t noticed him yet. Bray’s stare is blank, eyes glassy as he stares at the fire. Dean can see the grief that Luke had been talking about, it’s clear in Bray’s eyes now, and it twists him up inside. _Hurts_ even. He reaches out, letting his fingers slip across the palm of Bray’s hand.

Bray blinks, coming out his own head, and turns his head. His eyes soften when they meet Dean’s.

“Enjoying yourself darlin’?” He asks, closing his hand around Dean’s, a small smirk playing on his lips, “Not too bored?”

“I am actually, enjoying myself. ‘S nice,” Dean says, waving his free hand around to indicate everything, “All of it. Real nice. I- I didn’t get the chance to know her,” the grip on his hand tightens slightly, “but I wish I had.”

“Really?” Bray’s voice is nothing but a whisper and Dean nods.

“She seemed like she was a nice person. I would’ve liked to meet her.”

Bray hugs him then, pulls him close and wraps his arms around him. Dean wraps his arms loosely around Bray. They stand there for a good while.

“She would’ve like you,” Dean almost doesn’t hear the soft words being spoken before Bray pulls away. He smiles at Dean, a soft smile that is genuine, and Dean can’t help but grin back.

It’s when Dean notices that the field had gone quiet and all eyes were on them. He feels the heat in his cheekes, knows he’s blushing, and ducks his head. Bray laughs at it, a rich sound that fills Dean with warmth.

While he head is ducked, he doesn’t see Bray nodding at the people with the instruments, but when the music starts up again, Bray is taking his hands and asking, “Wanna dance?”

Dean blinks, “Uh… sure but I’m not very good at it.”

“I’ll show you, come” Bray pulls Dean away from the fire and hugs him close. They don’t do much but sway and that draws a huff of laughter from Dean.

“I can do this,” he murmurs, touching his forehead with Bray’s.

They stay like that, staring at one another, lost in one another. The rest of the world falls away and it’s just them.

The wind blows softly around them and Dean swears that one the breeze, he heard the soft sound of a female voice.

_“Take care of him, dearest little lamb.”_


End file.
